


Embrace the Sun

by itachiscatears



Series: Naruto AU Week 2021 [6]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Developing Relationships, Forest God Hashirama, M/M, Supernatural Beings, Underworld Being Izuna, an ?? Attempt ?? was made
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29404068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itachiscatears/pseuds/itachiscatears
Summary: When Madara is trapped in Tobirama's domain for attempting to steal the moon, Izuna embarks on a journey to free and replace him. Fortunately for him, the first leg of his journey is through Hashirama's forest.
Relationships: Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Izuna
Series: Naruto AU Week 2021 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2151513
Comments: 3
Kudos: 17
Collections: Naruto AU Week 2021





	Embrace the Sun

**Author's Note:**

> This story is an utter mess :^) I am so sorry to everyone but especially me. 
> 
> Worldbuilding? Don't know her. Basically there are three planes: the underworld (bad naughty beings), the surface (neutral beings) and the heavens (the top of the god food chain, not necessarily good). The Uchiha (god-like mercenaries) reside in the underworld and the Senju (minor gods) on the surface. 
> 
> Madara did not try to abduct the physical moon but a fish who harbours the spirit of it (thanks, decade-old memories of ATLA). He thoroughly regrets this venture. ~~Highkey eventual Madara/Tobirama because what is romance if not forced proximity after trying to steal the moon.~~
> 
> Written for:
> 
> Izuna Week 2021 - Day 6: Family | Friends
> 
> Naruto AU Week 2021 - Day 6: ~~Avatar: The Last Airbender~~ | Fantasy

There is a sound like shifting leaves behind him. He turns promptly, hand on his sword. A face is emerging from the trunk of a tree.

"Hello, Uchiha Izuna." Its roughly-hewn face is serene, eyes closed. The golden markings around its eyes glow in the shade of the tree. "Thank you for stepping lightly."

He kneels and bows his head. "Good afternoon—my lord," he spits between stiff lips.

"My name is Hashirama."

A god who refuses a title. Those, Izuna thinks impatiently, are the most dangerous.

"Hashirama-sama, I beg you to allow me safe passage through your forest. I will not injure, kill or eat any of the flora or fauna. I will step lightly and be gone in a week."

There is a long, thoughtful silence. Finally the tree whispers in its slow, rustling voice: "You have a long journey and not many provisions if you intend to keep your promise."

"They will last me. I do not need provisions where I am going."

This silence is significantly longer. He does not raise his eyes from the forest floor, watching a small brown beetle run up one side of his hand and down the other without breaking stride.

"I cannot let you pass if you intend on acting recklessly. Madara will be destroyed."

His ears prick. How is it possible that Hashirama does not _know?_

"I am going to save him."

A thousand pairs of eyes pierce him. "Explain," the tree orders.

"He is trapped in Senju Tobirama's domain," he says through bitter, bloodless lips. "I do not know the details. He left our home five weeks ago on a mission he would not share with me and never returned. I was already planning to find him when I received a note from one of his summons several days ago explaining that he is trapped and will return when he can. He is needed by our clan, he cannot sta—"

"Tobirama?" a furious voice says next to him, and Izuna's vision is filled half a second later with bright light.

He scrambles to his feet, one hand gripping the hilt of his sword. He looks up—and up—into the face of Senju Hashirama and feels his blood cool with dread. Madara had described him, once, as both _idiotic_ and _an unstoppable force_ ; he finds the words impossibly lacking when he is actually facing the being that worries even Madara.

"You are sure it is Tobirama?"

"It says so in his note."

"I will find him," Hashirama promises grimly, and is gone before Izuna can even attempt to retrieve his proof.

The forest is somehow dimmer despite it still being early afternoon. He finds a fallen log to sit on, one hand on his sword. He does not dare walk deeper into the forest without Hashirama's permission.

*

It is nearly nightfall when Hashirama returns. Izuna bolts upright, bowing hurriedly to him.

"Tobirama has him," Hashirama confirms before he can speak. Disturbingly he does not seem so angry now, but _petulant_. "He refused to listen to me or take me to Madara. He insisted Madara tried to steal something from him and must face the consequences. I told him about your intentions: he does not care so long as one of you is punished."

Izuna digests this. If Tobirama has no intentions of ending him—but no. Madara is the best strategical mind in the clan and they are at war with the Hagoromo. Without him they will surely suffer. Izuna had already taken a substantial risk leaving Hikaku in charge and escaping the underworld; he cannot turn back now. 

He bows again. "Hashirama-sama, I beg you to allow me safe—"

"I will help you if you insist on replacing him, but I cannot interfere directly. Tobirama will reject you if he thinks I am taking Madara's side."

"I simply need safe passage. I need nothing else from you."

"And you will get it," he says sulkily. _And there is the idiotic part Madara had mentioned_. "But you underestimate the size of my forest. It will take you weeks to find the other side.”

He hesitates. He has never made the journey himself, Uchiha unwelcome in the forest, but Madara has made it more times than he can recall. "It only takes Madara a week to cross."

"Madara is significantly stronger than you," Hashirama says bluntly, "and my friend. If he entertains me, I make exceptions for him. I will relieve your journey but you must make the first leg on your own. One of Tobirama's ducks has just entered the forest – no doubt to ensure I am not interfering."

That sounds like interfering, Izuna thinks privately.

"Thank you, Hashirama-sama. I am," he says reluctantly, "in your debt."

Hashirama cocks his head at this. "I suppose you are!" he says with a sudden laugh—loud, almost boisterous. It echoes warmly through the trees rather than disturbing the peaceful quiet. "And Madara too. He will not be happy about that – but he should not have gone against Tobirama. Go now before it gets too dark to see."

Izuna, had it been anyone else, would have laughed. His second pair of eyes cut through the dark. Before Hashirama, a being Madara had once admitted to being stronger than him, he heeds the warning as seriously as if it had come from the sun herself.

*

For three full days, not including his first night in the forest, he travels by himself. He follows the paths that look inviting, knowing instinctively that they will lead him to where he needs to go no matter how many times they wind and twist, and verbally thanks the fallen trunks and shed moss that make up his seats and bedding when he has to rest. He is not used to having to rest so often, nor the strain in his limbs, but he pushes through it and sleeps uninterrupted. He wakes on the third day to vines with tiny flowering buds winding in and out of his hair.

He walks from sunrise to sundown. The forest is thick and plentiful, hundreds of trees as far as the eye can see. Water is never out of reach. Animals occasionally cross his path, eyeing him not with fear but curiosity. They know he cannot harm them.

He encounters no other people in this time, though he would have been shocked if he did. Hashirama is by all accounts a generous god, swayed easily by the plights of mortals and immortals alike, but he is territorial. Those who enter his forest do so with his blessing or leave it regretting they had not begged.

Hashirama comes to him on the fourth night, emerging soundlessly from the shadows beyond Izuna's small chakra fire. There is something unsettling about seeing him at night: his simple haori and hakama hang like darkness around him; his hair, lighter in the sun, falls over his shoulders like an ink spill. His unlined face is troubled.

Izuna's second eyes slit open at the perceived threat. If Hashirama loathes them as others do, he gives no indication.

"I have been considering this situation gravely," he says as he folds himself onto the forest floor without a care for the shed leaves and dirt, "and I do not understand what Madara could have wanted from Tobirama. I know you are at war, perhaps—?"

"I do not know either, my lord."

Hashirama blinks at him idiotically. "My lord!" he guffaws. "No, no, just Hashirama! The only lords you will find are in the sky."

Izuna eyes him uneasily. A god who prefers his own name _and_ denies his divinity? What is _wrong_ with him?

"If that is your preference," he says stiffly.

"Thank you. Tell me a story, Uchiha Izuna, and I will take three days off your journey."

 _Tell me a story._ How childish!

"No?" Hashirama prompts, disappointed, when he can come up with nothing. "If not a story, tell me about the underworld. I have never been."

Unsurprising; most people have not. Madara is one of few able to cross back and forth with regularity, powerful enough not to feel the effects. With that in mind, he wonders why Hashirama has never made the journey.

"I do not know what you would like me to say. It is not unlike the surface from what I have seen so far."

"Describe it to me," he says simply, and then squints at him. "Or I might be tempted to _add_ three days. Madara is much more entertaining than this."

Izuna tries not to sulk. Of course Madara is more entertaining – he is well-travelled and powerful enough to go on the _very_ interesting missions without support. What does Hashirama expect of him?

"The first thing I noticed when I came to the surface is how thin the air is, so you would probably notice the opposite..."

*

Hashirama is gone when he wakes in the morning. He walks for several hours, the position of the sun indicating that it is probably between twelfth and fourteenth hour. He is getting hungry; he has not been eating anything upon waking to stretch his rations, but like the need to rest he has also been more frequently hungry than he is used to. Troublesome.

It is not long after he becomes fully aware of the gnawing hole in his stomach that he starts to notice ripe fruit on almost every bush he passes. He does not recognise the type of fruit, but they are rich and red and his hunger spikes. More likely edible than not. He slows to a stop in front of a voluptuous bush, fingers hovering over red flesh.

"May I please eat these?" he asks the forest. Hashirama had not yet offered him food, but he had promised to help him reach Madara. Surely that means he will also feed him?

He waits long moments for some sort of sign. He is about to give up and continue when one of the red fruits drops from the bush and lands with a soft thump. Several follow, some rolling towards his sandals.

"Thank you."

He picks them up gratefully, storing the excess in his kimono. The first bite is sweet, the skin parting like blood under his teeth. He sucks the juice as he walks, careful not to swallow any seeds. He spits them into his palm and scatters them along the forest floor to take root.

*

Hashirama joins him at sundown on the fifth night. He is wearing little more than a thin kimono and sandals and seemingly unaware of how much brown skin is on display. Izuna does not think he has ever seen so much of someone else's adult body before.

"Your skin is burned," Hashirama says in surprise. "Oh—but Madara burns sometimes too. You are probably not used to the heat."

"No, it is not the heat that is the problem. It is the sunlight."

"You do not have any direct sunlight in the underworld?" Hashirama asks, baffled.

Izuna thinks that is quite obvious, given the name.

"No. It is only light from fifth to seventh hour and eighteenth to twentieth hour most days."

"I would go mad," Hashirama says succinctly, folding himself neatly in front of Izuna's fire. "Tell me another story and I will take a day off of your journey."

Izuna tells him some old myths about the sun and Hashirama listens intently, firelight dancing over his face.

*

He wakes on the ninth day to Hashirama still with him, sitting cross-legged and barefoot on the forest floor. Two fish are cooking over the remains of Izuna's fire.

Izuna feels less than presentable after sleeping and bathing in the forest for over a week, never mind having to face the god directly after waking when his eyes are sticky and his mouth foul-tasting, but Hashirama does not seem to notice or care. If he has any sense of propriety, it is foreign to Izuna.

They eat in a mostly comfortable silence, Hashirama peaceful and Izuna only faintly suspicious of his motivations. He is not sure if he is surprised when Hashirama announces he will be walking with him today.

"Can I ask why?"

"Frankly," Hashirama says cheerily, "I have nothing better to do."

Izuna appreciates the honesty. He is not sure what he would have done with any other answer.

He expects non-stop chatter when they begin the day's journey, but Hashirama travels in serene silence, hands clasped loosely behind his back. He reaches out every so often to pick fruit and nuts, thanking every tree and bush personally. Izuna watches him from the corner of his eye; he had thought the forest _was_ Hashirama, but perhaps he is simply part of it.

They eat their lunch under a huge shaded tree. The sun is sweltering today, the air muggy and thick. He wonders if it will rain; the air is always strange before the underworld floods.

"Your skin is burned again," Hashirama says, studying him with a faintly quizzical expression. "Would you like me to heal you?"

The idea becomes more inviting the longer he considers it. He is not bothered by injuries or discomfort, a warrior from birth, but he does not believe in needless pain.

"What would you like in exchange?"

Hashirama appears uncharacteristically annoyed. "I need nothing to heal you. But if you prefer to make a deal, you can tell me a story."

"I have no stories left."

Hashirama gestures for him to come closer. Izuna kneels in front of him and closes his eyes in embarrassment as large hands cup his face. Chakra sinks into his skin, buzzing almost like bees' wings as damaged membrane is repaired and rejuvenated.

"If you have none left, perhaps you can make one up. What kinds of stories do you prefer?"

What a strange thing to be asked, let alone while he is being healed so intimately. He is overly aware of Hashirama's scent (earth, sun, skin) and the texture of his palms. His skin is faintly sticky from the fruit.

“None."

Hashirama makes a scandalised noise and drops his hands. Izuna shifts away slowly but insistently, not wishing to offend. His face feels warm for a completely different reason than the sun and he frankly could do without it.

"Well," Hashirama says exasperatedly, " _I_ prefer stories with happy endings and lots of action. Twists I do not see coming. Perhaps some romance if you can make it convincing."

Izuna takes this task upon himself with great displeasure.

"There was once," he begins with the opposite of flourish, "two brothers..."

*

"I don't think I like this story anymore," Hashirama says, squinting at him over the fire.

"You asked for twists and lots of action," Izuna mutters rudely, offended despite himself. He had thought it was all rather creative.

"Yes, but it makes little sense. Tell me more about the Divine Tree?"

"Fine. You know already that its fruit gave anyone who ate it an immortal life force—"

*

Raindrops slide down his forehead and gather under his eyes. Something warm and smooth covers his head, and it is only Hashirama's familiar scent that keeps him from attacking. He peers out under the edge of the haori to see him sitting fully in the rain, clothes darkening and hair flattening against his back and shoulders. His face is turned to the sky, soft smile visible in the remnants of the fire.

Izuna wonders what he looks like in the midst of battle.

*

The next day is both sweltering and damp. Hashirama continues to accompany him, telling him about the plants they pass and making up stories about his childhood. Neither are foolish enough to offer too much about either of their families, irrespective of Hashirama's friendship with Madara.

It is nearing evening when they come across a widening of the river that twists and flows throughout the forest, likely connected to his brother's domain. Hashirama wastes no time undressing and striding into the water, kneeling at the deepest junction and submerging himself completely. Izuna hesitates only a moment before shedding his heavy layers and following.

The water is blessedly cool. Usually an unpleasant experience, most water in the underworld tepid at its coldest, it soothes his skin and strips away the unpleasant tackiness of clinging sweat.

Hashirama gets out first, sitting bare on the bank when Izuna glances at him under wet hair. _Unabashedly_ bare. He snaps his eyes away, mortified. Unlike Izuna who had gained prominent sun lines in the last week and a half, his disarmingly attractive body is dark _everywhere_.

Hashirama watches him in what he probably thinks is a covert manner, head tilted towards the sun and eyes following Izuna as he rinses his hair properly and wades unhurriedly through the shallow water.

Izuna cannot find it within himself to truly mind, unused to communal nudity as he is. A small, bitter part of him wonders _how_ Madara would entertain Hashirama; it is certainly a romantic notion – a story Hashirama might even enjoy.

_There was once a god and a monster, the strongest of their clans, their families ancient enemies..._

*

His head is cushioned on Hashirama's arm when he wakes on the last day, their chests a miniscule distance from each other. A large hand cups the back of his skull, fingertips combing gently through loose hair. It feels strangely heavy despite its tie being lost; he reaches back and feels delicate petals crumple beneath seeking fingers. Hashirama catches his wrist before he can do any more damage and lays it on a solid flank.

Izuna takes in several deep breaths, but this does little to calm his racing heart as he is forced to fully appreciate the earthy, sun-warm scent that clings to Hashirama's clothes and skin. He does not dare open either pair of eyes, their faces close enough that Hashirama's breath tickles the hair falling across his forehead.

"Your brother will know you have interfered if he sees me like this."

Hashirama silently removes the flowers from Izuna's hair, hands twisting gently behind his head. When they disentangle from their embrace, Izuna sees that he had been tying the stems into a crown that he then rests on his own head.

They eat a small breakfast and part ways between two huge slumping trees. Fan-like leaves brush slowly over his shoulder, back and forth like a comforting hand, though there is no breeze.

"I cannot take you further; he will already be suspicious of how short your journey was. You should reach his domain in two days if you follow the river without deviating." He tucks a small hand-woven sack of assorted fruits and nuts into Izuna's mission pack. "Good luck, Uchiha Izuna. I hope we meet again."

He bows. He had made this journey for his brother and he will complete it regardless of despondent forest gods.

"Thank you for your many generous blessings, Hashirama-sama."

*

The journey is indeed two days. They are lonely without Hashirama's increasingly welcome presence, but Izuna had been prepared for this. He rations the fruit and nuts and entertains himself by making up stories about the stars in the night sky.

Senju Tobirama rises from the lake to meet him at the edge of his domain, arms crossed and expression icy. The water dissolves from his clothes and skin, leaving him dry save where his feet balance on the placid lake.

"I am here to replace Madara," Izuna says, forcing himself to bow.

"Do you even know what your brother has done?"

"No."

"You are nearly as foolish as he is, in that case. He has greatly offended the heavens. If it had been my will, I would have struck him down."

"I will take his punishment unto myself, as is my right. He is urgently needed by our clan."

Tobirama eyes him coldly. "So be it."

He waits on the bank, looking up at the sky that he had come to enjoy in the last two weeks. Maybe he can spend some time on the surface when the contract is completed.

The lake ripples and Madara rises spluttering and swearing, hair and unfamiliar clothes plastered to his body. He spits out a mouthful of brackish water and promptly chokes when slitted eyes make out the figure in front of him. His second eyes snap open, tomoe spinning.

"Step over the border," Tobirama orders impatiently. "He is taking your place."

Madara takes several steps _backwards_ , nearly sinking below the water again. "No."

He had been prepared for Madara to hum and haw and bemoan treating him like this, but the iron in his voice is _irritating_ to say the least.

"The clan needs you. I will return one day."

"I will wait out my sentence," Madara insists furiously. "Go back! You and Hikaku will manage without me!"

Izuna is shocked. Tobirama, too, appears taken aback by the display.

"Big brother—"

 _"No._ You know nothing of this and you will continue to know nothing of this!"

"It is my right. The heavens must agree if I have come this far."

_"I have spoken."_

"I see," Tobirama says. Four pairs of eyes snap to him. "He is just too embarrassed to tell you what he did. Make the swap or don't – it makes no difference to me. You are both insufferable."

 _"Shut up,"_ Madara hisses. "I am not _embarrassed_ —I am _NOT_ , _stop making that disgusting expression—!"_

Tobirama, smiling sharply, sinks smoothly beneath the water.

"Brother, what did you _do?"_ Izuna demands.

Madara glares at him, arms crossed over his drenched chest. "I tried," he finally grits out, "to steal the moon. Tobirama is my jailer until the heavens think I am sorry enough. The end. Go home!"

"But why?" he asks despairingly.

Madara's face goes impossibly cold. "I was hired to do it. I thought I understood why, but you and I will be going on a very interesting adventure when I am let out of here. I will tell you the details when I am sure I can shield you from the consequences. For now, _go home_ and do not accept any missions to the surface."

There is nothing he can do to convince him. A pointless journey, but at least Madara is sure he will return to him. Stubborn, if not confident.

"How long is the sentence?"

"I don't know. Several seasons at the least." He seems as if he too will simply sink down without a goodbye, but he pauses and says suspiciously, "Hashirama helped you. His chakra is all over you."

By some luck, Madara does not seem to make the connection as to _why_ it is there. Perhaps simply traversing the forest leaves enough residue for him to sense.

"If you do Hashirama a favour, he might bully Tobirama into letting us exchange letters. I have to go now," he says brusquely, "we're tied to—"

He disappears beneath the water with a splash, yanked as if on a rope.

Izuna turns towards the forest two days’ journey from the brackish lake. A strange feeling blooms in his chest.

*

He knows that he has been detected as soon as he passes the straggler trees bordering Hashirama's forest. The god appears quickly, half of a fruit forgotten in his left hand.

"Tobirama denied you?" he demands, eyes bright.

"Madara did. He insisted he would wait out his sentence."

Hashirama appears more relieved about this than he would have expected. Then again, Izuna thinks dourly, Hashirama had no bond with him at the beginning of this journey and no reason to want _him_ to return instead of his friend.

No matter. Madara had been right; if he does Hashirama a favour, entertains him, he will likely bully Tobirama into allowing them to communicate. Perhaps Hashirama can take him directly to Tobirama's domain to speak to his brother on the border.

Izuna bows low. "Hashirama-sama, I beg you to—"

"Really, all this _begging_. Why don't you simply ask me? You act like I need to be convinced," he adds sulkily.

"I have to return to my clan as soon as possible, for fear that we have already lost the war, but would you consent," he says slowly, embarrassed, "to me returning to your forest? Perhaps regularly?"

Hashirama all but _beams_. "Of course. You are always welcome in my forest – provided you treat it well. But in return for my blessings, considering Madara denied you..."

"Yes?"

"You have yet to kiss me," he says slyly.

Izuna waits for him to elaborate. Finally he asks impatiently, "Kiss?"

Hashirama's mouth falls slowly open. "You... do not kiss in the underworld?"

"I do not know what that is. Perhaps we do."

"It is when you touch your mouth to another person's mouth or skin. There are many different ways."

"Oh, that," Izuna says unenthusiastically. "I have seen some people do it. If that is what you want, we have a deal."

Hashirama slumps to the side. "Well, now I don't want to," he mumbles gloomily.

He walks past him into the forest. "Very well."

"Wait—!" Hashirama calls, shed leaves and twigs cracking under hasty sandals. "If you will be visiting regularly, might you want a little house to sleep in?"


End file.
